


tasting ash

by anattemptatwordbending



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Foster Family, Dadza, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Protective Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), basically everyone being protective of wilbur, building up wilburs backstory for this au im vibing with, irl fic but its still the characters not the people
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-12 18:28:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29015139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anattemptatwordbending/pseuds/anattemptatwordbending
Summary: Wilbur shook his head. He wouldn’t go inside. Inside he could be locked up. He could be burned. He wanted to explain, explain that outside was safe, but he couldn’t talk. Not with the panic crawling at his skin.Fire scares Wilbur. Being locked places scares him even worse.
Relationships: Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & Phil Watson
Comments: 27
Kudos: 371





	tasting ash

**Author's Note:**

> come get ur hurt/comfort
> 
> this is maybe a little bit of a mess ~sigh~ but phil just had to yell at the school people. he just had to.

Stupid fucking science class, stupid fucking fire.

He should’ve excused himself as soon as his teacher brought up the topic. Should’ve said he felt sick. Phil wouldn’t have been mad.

But he didn’t want to be the broken kid. Stupid, ‘cause they all sure as hell thought he was broken now.

Bunsen burners. Just a little science lab, and suddenly he was back there. Trapped. His father in the doorway holding a match.

Wilbur slumped against the tree, trying to breathe. He got out. They couldn’t lock him in. They couldn’t burn him. He frustratedly wiped a tear off his face.

“Wilbur,” a stern, sharp voice. Wilbur looked up, his eyes still a little unfocused. “Come inside immediately.” The vice principal. And the supervisor. Dealt with the problem kids.

Wilbur shook his head. He wouldn’t go inside. Inside he could be locked up. He could be burned. He wanted to explain, explain that outside was safe, but he couldn’t talk. Not with the panic crawling at his skin.

“You can’t just leave school, Wilbur. Come.” She reached for Wilbur’s arm. Wilbur flinched, hitting it away. No. No. They couldn’t bring him back in there.

Angry now. Wilbur could feel the feeling prickling from her, poking his skin and leaving him nauseous. No. Wilbur shook his head again.

“Last chance.”

Wilbur shook his head.

And suddenly there were hands grabbing him on either side. Wilbur thrashed, but they only tightened. No no no no no no no.

They were dragging him back. Back inside. No. He wanted to scream but he couldn’t.

Tears stung his eyes, useless to fight against the two stronger adults. They dragged him through the door, and he started hyperventilating. No no no fuck no they were gonna lock him in they were gonna burn him no no no.

The door clicked shut behind them.

Wilbur couldn’t scream.

He struggled, but the arms stayed strong. And then he was walked through an office area and behind and pushed into a room an empty room with a cot and then it was locked he was trapped he was locked in. He was trapped.

Wilbur banged on the door, but no one let him out. He could hear worried voices and maybe a dial tone. Everything smelled like ash.

Yelling. Familiar voice. Safe voice. Angry. But not at him?

Wilbur uncovered his head, trying to make out the words.

“Where the _fuck_ is my brother?” Angry, loud, strong, safe.

And then the door was open and then suddenly soft.

“Wilbur,” Techno whispered, his voice shaking but gentle. Wilbur whimpered.

“Techno they’re gonna burn me please don’t let them,” he whispered, because when it was Techno, his voice could work. Techno inched close.

“Is touch okay?” he asked.

Wilbur nodded. “If it’s you.”

Techno softly pulled Wilbur into him, murmuring. “It’s okay, you’re safe, I won’t let them hurt you. Dad is coming.”

 _Dad,_ not father. The one who cared. The one who promised him every night that he wouldn’t let him get hurt. Wilbur leaned into Techno. 

“They locked me in here,” Wilbur whispered. “They pulled me back and they locked me in here.”

Techno tensed. Wilbur could feel the anger again. But not the same. The other one hurt, this one was safe. Techno wasn’t angry with him. 

“They _what?_ ” Techno growled, and then Wilbur could feel him try to pull back. “I’m sorry, I know you don’t like anger,” Techno said quietly.

Wilbur shook his head. “Kinda like it when it’s to protect me,” he admitted softly.

Raised voices from the front room. Something about a problem child, something about suspension… and then a low, clear, sharp voice. _“Where is my son?”_

Dad.

Phil burst through the door, anger still present on his face when he saw Techno and Wilbur, but immediately softened.

“Sir-,”

“Let me talk to my sons.” Phil closed the door.

Wilbur made a soft noise, reaching out his arms, and Phil kneeled on the floor, hugging him softly. “Are you okay?” he asked, eyebrows creasing.

“Am now,” Wilbur whispered, because his family was here and they would keep him safe.

Techno’s voice was trembling with rage when he spoke. “Dad, they forced him to come back inside. They _dragged him_ back inside. And they _locked him in here.”_

Phil’s shoulders tensed. He looked to Wilbur, who nodded quietly, unsure what else to say. Phil closed his eyes, taking a shaking breath.

“Wilbur,” he asked quietly. “Would you rather I do this now, or once you’re home? I don’t want you to listen to something you’d rather not hear.”

“It’s okay,” Wilbur whispered. “I don’t mind.”

Phil nodded, getting up from the floor and taking a deep breath. “Techno, take care of Wilbur till I get back. Wilbur, make sure Techno doesn’t murder anyone. If you need me just come out. I just need to do something and then we can go home.”

Phil closed the door behind him (not locked this time) and Wilbur leaned into Techno.

“Badass Philza time,” Techno whispered.

It wasn’t very hard to hear Phil through the door.

“You _forcefully move_ a fucking traumatized kid, and then you have the audacity to call him the problem?”

“...issue…. left class… violent...”

“He fucking fought back? He struggled to get away and you still dragged him inside? You have his file, you _know_ he has trauma…”

“danger... unstable…”

“Was he violent before you tried to drag him into his worst fear?”

“...”

“Jesus fucking christ. You fucking realize what this means, right? My son is going to be scared to come to school now, he’s probably going to have extra nightmares, more than the shit he already has to deal with…”

“...suspension... apologies... rules…”

“Yeah, you bet your fucked up system he’s not going to school for the next week at least. _Jesus._ I don’t have time for this. I have a fucking child who you just reminded of his worst trauma.”

Wilbur could hear Phil’s footsteps walking towards them, so he leaned on Techno to shakily get to his feet. Techno wrapped his arm around his shoulder, supporting him.

“Let’s go.”

Neither Techno or Wilbur sat in the front seat of the car, both leaning against each other in the back. Phil tapped the steering wheel, clearly upset. “I’m sorry, Wilbur,” he said. “About yelling about you.” 

Wilbur wiped his tear stained cheeks. “I thought it was pretty badass.”

Techno grinned. “We got the most badass dad,” he sang.

Phil chuckled. “Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked, turning around in his seat.

Wilbur fidgeted for a second. He was definitely gonna have nightmares. And he didn’t even want to think about having to go back. But… 

“Yeah. I’m okay. If Techno wasn’t there I dunno if--” his voice shook. “But Techno was there. And you were there. So I’m okay.”

“Can you taste it?” Techno asked quietly, and Wilbur knew what he meant. Could he taste the ash. The stuff that would coat the inside of his mouth when it got really bad, so he couldn’t talk couldn’t think couldn’t breathe.

“No,” Wilbur said softly. “Not anymore.”

**Author's Note:**

> please please please leave commentsss if u liked it. or maybe ideas for stories youd want written in this au!! 
> 
> <33


End file.
